Little Things
by Jasmine Lita Everdeen
Summary: Katniss realises that it's the little things that counts the most. Katniss x Peeta. One shot! Please review! Rated T cuz I'm paranoid


Maybe it's the little things that count the most.

When he isn't hugging me in his sleep or having a nightmare, Peeta's the most annoying blanket hogger in Panem. He tosses and turns and in the end, the blanket is twisted in his legs, leaving me quite cold.

Willow, my daughter, has this habit of chewing her nails down to stubs when she's nervous. No matter how much I scold her and tell her to stop, she continues to chew. I've even stuck bits of rocket, which she hates, to the nails so she would stop. That didn't work, either.

Rye, my younger son, giggles at the most inappropriate times. When Haymitch had knocked himself out with a beer bottle and was lying there bleeding from a head wound, Rye giggled and that set Peeta off, which made me and Willow laugh as well. So, we were laughing our heads off while Haymitch was lying there, quite dead to the world. And bleeding.

Talking about him, Haymitch is the grumpiest person known to the world. But no one knows apart from me and Peeta that when he actually smiles for real, his eye twitches crazily. Chuckling, Peeta had told him that, and Haymitch scowled at him and threatened to tell me what he was doing to a sack of flour every night since he met me. Peeta had blushed and shut up immediately. Now, Haymitch doesn't smile that much, but I still catch him out with an occasional one. Mostly he cackles and grins when Rye says a rude word, probably picked up from Johanna when she visits us.

I made Peeta tell me what exactly he had been doing to the flour, and he admitted that he was practising proposing to me.

Effie has toned down ever since the rebellion. She lives next to us, in the formerly empty Victor's house. But there is one thing that the rebellion hasn't stolen from her; her bubbly personality. She would barge into our house at 6:00 am sharp and pound on our doors, saying that it's "a big, big, big day!" then promptly drag Willow out of the house for new clothes. Thankfully, she knows not to bang on Rye's door, or she will get a very murderous Katniss. One thing that the rebellion has stolen from her, however, is her love for the Capitol. That's why she moved to District 12. She had confessed to me that the Capitol has too many bad memories for her to ever go back to. She had also confessed to me that she had called Haymitch 'Haybitch' more than once. I choked on my tea when I heard that.

That's why, this morning, I'm not surprised when Effie is banging on the door to me and Peeta's room, telling us to get up then moving onto Willow's. That's why I'm not surprised to see the blanket not on me. Peeta sits up and smiles apologetically at me, blue eyes sparkling as he untangles the blanket and wraps it around my shoulder.

"Thanks," I murmur, leaning against him as our door flies open to see a very disgruntled Haymitch. He is definitely not smiling now, narrowing his eyes at us and yelling: "Shut that damn woman up! I can hear her next door!"

"You shut up, Haybitch!" Effie shrieks back.

"Language!" I warn both of them, slipping out of bed and padding out. "There are children in the house!"

"Haybitch!" giggles Rye as he toddles out of his room from down the hall.

I glare at Haymitch and Effie as she appears out of Willow's room. She has the decency to look guilty, but Haymitch glares back.

"What?" He says. "I didn't say anything bad. It's Effie's fault."

Effie switches her gaze to Haymitch and glares at him. If looks kill, then he would have been run over by a train and trampled and maimed by dozens of Careers. I sigh and shake my head as Peeta places his arm around my shoulders and says: "Can we not argue? Rye, don't say that word again, okay?"

Rye giggles and runs at Peeta. Peeta crouches down and Rye flies at him, knocking his father backwards. I watch them play, with Peeta tickling Rye's stomach. Willow comes out of her room, yawning and stretching. She's six, and she acts like she's an adult ready to move out of home.

"What's for breakfast?" She asks, rubbing her eyes.

Effie swoops down onto her. "I'll make waffles, and then we can go to the new marketplace that has opened in the square!"

"No thanks, Auntie Effie." Willow says. "Mom, can you make the cereal with the berries?"

I smile at her, and ignore Haymitch's comment about how I finally smiled at someone. "Sure, honey. I'll be down there in a minute." I turn to Rye and Peeta. "Now, Mr Rye, what would you like for breakfast?"

"Toast!" says Rye.

Rye's inherited Peeta's love for bread, that's clear. Willow prefers berries and game, much to my general happiness. But she does like the occasional scone. She adores cake. Rye likes the fruit salad that I make, and the cereal with berries.

I herd my kids downstairs, grabbing one of Rye's toys off the stairs as Peeta trails after me. Haymitch belches, much to Effie's scandalised screech. I sigh and shake my head at both of them, opening the fridge and taking out the container of berries that Willow helped me pick yesterday. I have taught her which berries that are edible, and which aren't.

"This is a mulberry, right?" Willow had said, screwing her face up with concentration as she looked at the berry.

"That's right," I had said, letting her place it in the basket. I had pointed at another berry. "And what's this?"

"Nightlock!" Willow had gasped, yanking my hand away from it. "It will kill you!"

I had ruffled her proudly. "Good job."

A crash brought me back to the present. Haymitch had stumbled down the stairs and into a vase. He is now lying in the broken pieces of the vase, yelping with pain. Effie dances around him, tutting and hustling Rye into his chair. Willow snickers down at Haymitch, hopping into the chair next to Rye. She has clearly inherited my sense of humour.

Peeta groans and lifts Haymitch's arm, dragging him upwards. Bits of broken glass are sticking out of him. He drags Haymitch into a chair opposite Rye. Rye cackles at Haymitch. Haymitch scowls at my son.

"What are you laughing at?" He growls, picking out shards of glass.

"Haybitch!" squeals Rye.

Haymitch guffaws along with Rye, his eye twitching, obviously not caring that Rye just technically insulted him. I glare down at Rye.

"Uh oh," says Haymitch, eyeing my face. "Rye, when your mother gets that look on that face, you duck and cover." I pin Haymitch down with death eyes then switch my focus back to my son.

"Rye, what did your father say to you?" I say.

Rye stops giggling and stares up at me with innocent eyes. "To not say that word ever again."

"And why did you say it?"

"I don't know."

"Rye, don't give me that. _Why did you say it_?"

Rye's eyes fills with tears. "I thought it would be funny."

I look down at him. "Is it funny now?"

Rye shakes his head frantically. "No, Mama."

"Will you say that word again?"

"No, Mama."

Peeta takes over from here and bends down, wincing as his prosthetic leg creaks a bit. He hugs Rye tightly, running a hand over his curly blond hair. "Mama loves you very much, but that's a bad word. Do you understand?"

Rye nods, sniffling. Peeta looks at me, and I know he wants me to hug Rye too. I kneel down and Rye hugs me. I hug him back, smelling the flour from Peeta's hug. Then I let go and stand up, heading over to the kitchen bench to start Willow's breakfast. Peeta stands next to me, kneading dough to make Rye's toast. He's thrilled that he's finally making breakfast for his kids, so a smile always breaks out in a smile every time he makes bread.

Effie suddenly shrieks at Haymitch about his foul mouth and it makes me jump, startled. The knife I'm using slips and cuts my hand open, blood gushing out. I curse quietly, aware that little ears are listening, and drop the knife, hurrying to the tap to wash the blood off my hand. It's after I'm pressing a towel to my cut that I realise Peeta's not hovering over me like he usually is after I hurt myself.

His hands are digging into the bench, the fingertips turning white from pressure. His eyes are screwed tightly shut. I lay a gentle hand on his arm, and he jerks away, opening his eyes. They are dark and tormented, unlike the clear sky-blue that I love. Then I know that he's having a flashback.

"Peeta. It's okay," I say, approaching him slowly. The last time he had a flashback, it was when my waters broke with Willow inside of me. "I'm safe, Willow's safe, Rye's safe. Everyone's safe."

Peeta shakes his head wildly with his eyes tightly shut again. "You're a mutt. You killed my parents. That's why you have blood all over your hand."

I spare a quick glimpse to my kids. "No, Peeta, I'm not a mutt. I gave birth to your two beautiful children, Rye and Willow. Do you think that a mutt would do this? Willow and Rye are alive, real or not real?"

"Real," mutters Peeta.

"I've never harmed you since you've been living with me, real or not real?"

"Real."

I deem Peeta's mood safe and move closer. Peeta backs away, hearing my footsteps approach. I stop, my uninjured hand clenching into a fist.

Then a miracle happens.

Unbelievingly, Rye's giggle breaks the tense silence. Peeta relaxes, listening to Rye laugh. His eyes open, and the lovely sky-blue hue is back. He looks guiltily at me, but I hug him, relieved to have him back. Then I kiss him full on the lips, much to Willow's disgusted cry of "Ew, cooties!" and Haymitch's snarky remark about that's how she was made.

Peeta breaks away and picks Rye up, spinning him around, the air filling with Rye's delighted shrieks. Willow takes my hand, her bitten nails grazing my skin as she turns the tap back on and washes my cut carefully, then dabbing antiseptic and bandaging my hand. My eyes fill with tears as she works. She's got Prim's and Mom's healing hands. I can almost imagine a blond head working on my hand, instead of a dark one.

Willow gives me a smile and drops my hand. "Done," she whispers.

I gather her in my arms and press a kiss to the top of her head. Her arms circle around me, hugging me back.

My name is Katniss Mellark. I am 39 years old. I live in District 12, with Peeta, Haymitch and Effie. I have two beautiful children, Willow and Rye Mellark. Willow has pin-straight dark hair with Peeta's crystal eyes, and Prim's healing hands. Rye has curly blond hair with my grey eyes and Peeta's ability to ground his loved ones. My mom lives in District 4 and Prim is dead. I'm not okay with that, but Peeta and my children have helped me move on. Peeta makes the bed sheet wrap around his legs, Willow bites her nails, Rye laughs at bad times, Haymitch has a tick in his left eyes when he properly smiles, and Effie has her ever-present bubbly attitude.

Yes, the little things truly count and make my life worth living.

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><p><strong>I hope that you enjoyed this sweet one-shot! I wrote it when I heard Christina Perri's A Thousand Years. In case you don't know, Suzanne Collins has said that Katniss and Peeta's kids' names are Willow and Rye. TRUE FACT! If you liked this, please check out my Prory fic The Monstrosity that is Now.<strong>

**Please review!**

**Jaz**


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